


Bad Moon Rising

by anarchycox



Series: I Wanna Howl For You [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Falling In Love, M/M, Young Harry Hart, betrothals, elective mute character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22864189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: Harry is 21 and wants to make his band actually work. But he has duty to his family. He agrees he has until he is 30 to be successful and at that age, he will marry for duty to the person his family made arrangements with. That is nine years away, not a thing to worry about.Far more a concern is the new quiet bassist they have, and how Harry's feelings increasingly change for him.It is a difficult thing choosing between familial duty and your heart.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Percival
Series: I Wanna Howl For You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1356814
Comments: 36
Kudos: 84





	Bad Moon Rising

**Author's Note:**

> just a quick note, this prequel retcons just a couple small things from the other story. there harry says he has been mated 10 years, but this story it is shown that it is actually 20 years.

Harry pretended to read the contracts carefully. Merlin would read them later, and tell him if he was completely fucked. Well he was completely fucked, but hell he had known he would be fucked since he was 10. Families as old as they were didn’t mate for love, they mated for status.

It was a testament to how much his parents loved him that he was only signing a betrothal contract at 21 to be fulfilled at 30. Most werewolves of their status when they got the talk at 10 also were signing a contract.

“This is foolish,” the head of the other family said. “He should be joining your business and not…doing,” the man couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“Starting a band,” Harry said. “Well, started, and I have until 30 to make it successful or I join Father’s business one week before I wed a,” Harry coughed a bit. “I’m sorry I’ve forgotten your family name?”

“It’s on the pages in front of you,” the man growled.

Harry’s father growled back and the man tilted his head.

No one stood up long to the Harts. “You agreed,” Myrrdian Hart said sharply. “When Harry signs it is done. The day he turns 30 he marries one of the Morton blood line.” 

Harry signed his name with a flourish on the multiple copies. “Pleasure, this is my copy?”

“It is,” his father looked at him. “Harry -”

“I always knew this would happen, thank you for the extra time, Father.” Harry kissed his father’s cheek and left the room without another word. Merlin was outside leaning against a motorcycle and smoking. He looked dangerous and it was all completely an affectation. Merlin had spent hours practicing how to lean on the bike like that. 

“Well?”

“We have nine years,” Harry said.

“Let’s make them count,” Merlin replied, and got on the bike. Harry climbed on behind him and they rode off to their shitty flat/music studio. Yes they owned the building thanks to Harry’s family, but they kept the may have been bombed during the blitz look to it all. The smell of urine and the graffiti added to the charm of the struggling artist vibe they had going on.

When they got in, Harry stripped out of his suit and grabbed his Gibson. He just started playing hard, the angriest music he could think of and Merlin went to the kit and kept beat. Punk wasn’t how it had been, but they’d figure out how to make their mark.

*

“Auditions?” Harry sneered a bit. “Last bassist was found in a bar fight.”

“Aye, and look he stole a thousand quid from us.” Merlin sat behind his kit. “Harry -”

“I know,” Harry agreed. Two years and they had gigs, not enough to live off of, but they didn’t actually need to, thanks to Harry’s quarterly allowance and Merlin’s luck at illegal poker tables. But something was just never right. “What are we doing wrong?”

“I’ve told you, we’re a shitty punk band, Harry, who play 90% covers even though you write fucking brilliant lyrics.”

“But the music is never right, and I don’t know why.” Harry growled a bit. “I need a steak.”

“We need a decent run, didn’t go out last month,” Merlin said. “Head to your country house?”

“Mmm,” Harry agreed. “No one will even come to the audition.”

“Then we’ll be done early, and get you that steak.” Merlin tapped a bit of a rhythm out on his kit and Harry listened. His hand hovered over his guitar rack and he found himself reaching for his Gretsch. It was new and orange, and he was not sure it was right. But his mother had bought it for him for his 23rd birthday. He started to play, slowly matching what Merlin was doing, and then leading. It wasn’t punk, at least not what they had been doing, but it was fast and he lost himself in it.

“Hello, here for the audition?” someone called out and Harry ignored it. Didn’t matter anyways, James wasn’t here yet, he was always late. He insisted on living in his own place across town. Very much, just because I am struggling artist doesn’t mean I actually have to struggle. His family had even more money than Harry’s, though they were a bit younger on reputation. 

Plus he had already married his betrothed. They hated each other.

Harry wondered if he would hate the woman he was going to be married to. At least he had another seven years before that happened. The person kept trying to get their attention, and they kept ignoring them. He and Merlin knew something was happening.

A couple more came and went and they just kept playing, eyes solely on each other. They stared and both sort of nodded and Merlin started going faster and Harry kept up. Their smiles were feral, eyes wild. Another noise started in and they both looked over. A man, about their age…no a bit younger based on the spots on his jawline. He was in a full suit which was odd. It was cheap but still a proper suit, even with tie. Hair short and carefully brushed. The bass in his hands gleamed. And he was keeping up. He had no music, because there was none, but was laying down a perfect line deepening their sound, enriching perfectly.

Merlin sharply changed the rhythm, and Harry bobbled a bit, and then matched him.

The boy playing the bass never faltered.

Well now, wasn’t he interesting.

“Sorry!” James shouted over the noise. “Sorry sorry sorry. Wife was talking about us aiming for a cub next moon and, fuck is that a human?”

Merlin quit playing and Harry stared at the bassist. 

“Ahhwooo,” the bassist whispered and then flushed. 

“Thank fuck, I swear life would be so much easier if we didn’t hide,” James groaned. “Right, guess the auditions are all done with the way you lot were playing. What’s your name then?”

The boy flushed a bit and didn’t answer. Harry noticed that his hips were still moving. Same beat as they had been playing.

Harry could smell the werewolf blood easily enough in the boy. “Are you legal?” The boy flashed his fingers signaling 19. “Can you talk?” He moved his fingers in a so so motion.

“You can, but you don’t like to,” Merlin said, sizing him up. The boy nodded. “Keep up with me.” Merlin started wailing and Harry watched as the kid did so. It was more of the same. And it called to Harry the way the moon did.

The suit looked odd, they’d have to change that. He looked down at his new guitar.

“James what did you say?”

“I asked the new guy his name,” James had grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“No before that.” Merlin had slowed down and the boy was matching him beautifully. Merlin was smiling. His happy smile that made people cry in fear.

“Be nice if we didn’t have to hide,” James said. 

Harry closed his eyes and listened to the drum and bass. Let words flit through his mind, emptied himself, and filled back up. His eyes snapped open. “What if we didn’t?”

“Didn’t what?” James was looking nervous. “Why do you have your I’m changing the world face on?”

“Because I’m changing our world,” Harry said slowly. “I’m changing everything.”

“Fuck that’s how I ended up in this shit band instead of law school,” James groaned.

*

“I cannot do the drums in those shoes,” Merlin said and was tying a pair of boots on. “And if you fuss, I’ll shove this stick up your arse, to join the metaphoric one already there.”

Harry nodded. He was mostly thankful that Merlin was actually wearing the suit. They were all in black suits, white shirts, black and gold ties, and a pink pocket square. At a club where someone had been stabbed the night before. 

It had been a good night that only one person was stabbed.

Four months they had been working their asses off writing new material, learning it, and a few covers. Carefully crafting their cover story. Then Merlin had called in every favour at every shitty club he had, and managed to get them one gig. Just one. Harry knew that tonight was everything. He was stretching his fingers. They had six songs to prove themselves, or at least not get killed by flying beer bottles. James was warming up his vocal chords and their bassist was puking in a rubbish bin.

Fuck.

Harry went over and rubbed the boys back. They knew nothing about him. He hadn’t said a single word in the four months, but played like he was meant to be with them. He was always on time, always in a suit. And now the boy was puking in a rubbish bin that just as likely had been used as a bog in the last 24 hours. “First time on stage in a place like this? We’ll keep you alive, pup.” He looked about 15 in the weird green lighting in the place.

Harry smiled when he was flipped off. “Here, this beer will likely taste worse that your vomit, but at least you’ll forget the taste of the vomit in your mouth.” The boy winced as he drank.

“First time on stage,” he whispered.

Oh dear. “Well, think, it cannot get any worse than this place,” Harry said bracingly. “Not even your secondary school band?”

“Home,” he said, and his jaw tightened; Harry doubted there would be any more words.

“Home schooled?” Harry asked and the boy nodded. Not uncommon in the poor wolf packs to home school when they couldn’t send to the academy’s that catered to those of differing birthrights. “You are going to be fine, and if you aren’t, hide behind Merlin. He is very skilled in bar fights and using his sticks as weapons.”

The manager whistled at them and Harry straightened the boy’s tie. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

The boy glared at him. 

The crowd didn’t rebel until song four, and when they all sat in A&E waiting for Merlin to get the stitches he needed, the boy was still glaring at him. “Oh look, it could have been much worse,” Harry protested. “If the bottle had hit him slightly differently we wouldn’t even be here. The bottle had done a weird bounce on the stage, broken and torn into Merlin side when he had rushed at a guy who had climbed the stage. “And closer to the moon it would heal.” The boy was still glaring. “And look, we got a gig for next week, in a far better bar.” As they had rushed out the back, a man had followed them and said he thought they were perfect for his place, offered 200 quid to play next Saturday. “Unless you are quitting.”

“Fuck you,” the boy said.

“If you can manage that, surely by now you can manage to tell us your name.” Harry smiled when he was flipped off. “You’ll see next week will be better.”

They were booed and jeered, but no one ended up in A&E so it was a definite win.

*

“Well now, a surprise party, I am so surprised!” Harry said.

Merlin snorted at that. “Happy Twenty fifth, Harry.” He pulled him in for a hard hug and kiss. “Let’s get shit faced.”

“Perfect,” Harry agreed. They party kicked into gear and there was tons of food, booze, and sure enough, Harry and the band found themselves playing their own party. Not that they minded. James was very drunk, and slurring Harry’s songs a bit.

“Ahhwoooooo!” James called and all their friends and family, most of whom were wolves answered. “Hey, honey? You are here right?” The crowd pushed James’s mate to the front and she ran a hand over the small bump. “Everyone, it’s a boy!” The group roared and she smiled. “And it’s not mine!” The room went deathly silent. “Whoops. Guess you forgot honey, that in the second trimester we can smell our baby, and it sure as hell doesn’t smell like my pack.” She walked out of the building without another word. “Congrats, Harry, this is what you have to look forward to in five years. Happy fucking birthday.” James leapt off the stage and disappeared after his wife.

“Well, is this the time I announce that a record label wants to sign us, for a three album deal?” Merlin asked. Applause was slow but eventually rolled through the crowd and Harry processed the words. He was worried about James, but a contract, actual records. The party regained steam and everyone was mildly tipsy as they were poured into their cars by their drivers. Merlin was cleaning up bottles and the boy was organizing Harry’s gifts.

Harry went up to the roof, to stare at the sky. It was a crescent moon. He wished it was full, that he could run. So much was rolling through his head, a run would feel amazing. He heard a noise and assumed Merlin would be passing him a cigarette in a second. Lung cancer wouldn’t get them, being werewolves, but still they were cautious they split less than a pack a month between them. Instead though a package dropped on his chest as he lay there. Harry sat up, seeing that it was boy. “I missed one?”

He nodded and flicked a lighter. Harry could just make out a name. “Who is Percival?” He frowned. He didn’t know a Percival. He looked up and Percival was a bit flushed. It wasn’t all from the beer. “That name doesn’t suit you at all. I thought you were like a Bernard or something.” He laughed at the salute he got. He opened the package and smiled. Bone picks. They were gorgeous and the perfect weight. “Thank you.” He looked up at the boy.

Percival.

“Sit for a bit?” 

Percival sat next to him. “Is it an impediment?” He shook no. “Trauma, abuse?” Another shake. “Just really fucking hate the sound of your own voice?” There was a nod at that. “Well then. Luckily I talk enough to fill the silence. Did you know I’m rich?” Percival nodded and sort of gestured to the whole building. “Fair. Did you know that my family matters?” Percival just shrugged. “We’re an old wolf family, and my father is the alpha. It is me and then cousins. And that means, to keep wolf lines strong, I am betrothed.”

“To whom?”

“You said the right thing,” Harry smiled a bit. “I don’t actually know? Never read the contract properly. Bortons? Portus? Mortons? Does it matter. Five years tonight, I marry and continue distinguished lines. Weee.” Harry shook his head. “I hate it. And Father bought me more time than many would have. You are lucky not to matter.” Percival snorted a bit at that and Harry winced. “My apologies. Do you have a girlfriend, boyfriend?” Percival shook his head no. “Really? They look at you in the crowd, like how your hips sway. All your spots are gone now. You are actually quite attractive.” Harry blinked. When had that happened? Was it the beer? He hadn’t had a drink in an hour. “When did you get handsome?” He wasn’t in a suit. Harry wasn’t sure he had ever seen Percival out of a suit. “Seriously when did that happen?”

“Shut up,” Percival said and tackled him. 

Harry was confused why their bassist was trying to kill him, and soon realized that no, he wasn’t trying to kill Harry.

He was trying to kiss him.

It was a dreadful kiss, hard, lots of spit, desperation and Harry gently pushed him back. “Good lord man, you’d think that was your first kiss.” Harry laughed a bit and then paused at the way Percival hunched in on himself. Harry cursed and then cupped his cheek. “Do over,” he said and kissed Percival. He kept it soft, sweet. Like a first kiss should be. He thought that would rather be the end of it, but Percival climbed onto his lap. “Percival, I don’t think this is the best idea?”

Percival kissed him again, and apparently was a fast learner because it was much better. 

Harry found himself on his twenty fifth birthday making out with his bassist on the roof of their building, knowing they had a record contract. There had been far worse birthdays.

*

“America is too big,” Harry said. They were driving through Texas and all the space was horrific. “Why do they need all this space?” The label had actually sprung for a caravan and driver. Apparently they were big in Texas and doing a tour before going back to the studio to record their second album. The first had been a middling success, but showed potential. The label decided they should actually ramp up the werewolf in suits shtick which had made them all laugh a bit. Harry was having a great deal of fun writing the lyrics. James was not having fun on the tour, his mating continuing to fall apart but there was nothing that could be done.

Wolves mated for life.

Harry wouldn’t think about the two years he had left. He had asked his father if maybe they could dissolve the contract and his father had looked at him with disgust. It was the first time Harry realized that his parents weren’t really different from the rest of their set, they just were willing to give him more time. He had mentioned that he was sticking with the band, because they were steadily becoming successful and his father had just said they would see. Harry had been thankful the small American tour had come up. He needed away.

They were doing well on the tour, all in all. Good size bars and clubs, a couple actual venues. James was boning everything that moved. Merlin kept buying meat rubs and talking to people about smokers, which Harry was just ignoring.

The only problem with the caravan was no privacy. He and Percival were getting very good at fucking in the bogs of clubs. They had been on and off since that birthday party three years ago, though the last year it was mostly on. Harry had delighted in showing Percival all the ways that sex was fun. The man was so responsive and talked so much during sex.

He figured they had in three years fucked about 200 or so times, due to the months where Harry and Merlin were writing songs and Harry sort of forgot the world existed, and in that 200 Percival had said a solid half dozen sentences if you strung the words together. He heard Percival’s voice more than anyone else. Harry found himself very possessive of that voice. And the sighs and gasps. There were endless perfect sighs and gasps in bed. Harry was oddly possessive of the way the man breathed as well.

A few people had flirted with Percival after shows and it was all Harry could do not to rip out their throats.

“This open space will be good tomorrow night,” Merlin said. “Already found a good place for us to run.” 

Harry’s head shot up, as he realized what that meant. He looked at Percival. “We’re finally going to run together?” He had asked the man several times, but he had always shook his head, disappeared when the moon came. 

Percival slowly nodded and looked worried. Harry wondered why, and then he thought he knew. Percival must be a bit smaller, perhaps some humans mixed into his line somewhere along the way. Lower class families didn’t stay so pure. Harry smiled reassuringly.

The gig went very well, and all the men were restless.

The next night, they slipped the driver some sleeping meds and drove the caravan to the spot that Merlin had found. “Perfect,” James said. He was the first to get naked and took off running. Merlin gave them a nod and he was gone too. 

Harry was watching Percival. “However you are, it is okay,” Harry swore. Percival looked so nervous. “I don’t mind. I am sure you are beautiful.” He couldn’t wait to run with the sweet little wolf that the man was. But he understood that he might need a moment. Harry went to the woods and waited. He closed his eyes and smiled when the moon rose. He howled to it, James and Merlin also being heard. He smiled as he transformed, Percival’s wolf was as quiet as his human side. Harry began to run, ate a few small creatures, and then he heard a branch snap.

Fuck, shouldn’t be that surprising that they came across a few strange wolves in the woods, but he worried about a territory fight. He didn’t challenge but stood still, and then he breathed in.

He knew that smell.

There was a snarl from the other werewolf and Harry growled back. Percival was definitely not tiny, he was larger in his true form than even Merlin. Percival howled and it called to everything in Harry. It called to his fucking soul. 

That terrified Harry more than anything had in his life. He took off running. He hoped that Percival wouldn’t chase.

He prayed that he would.

Harry ran and ran and Percival never gave up. Eventually Harry pivoted and jumped to attack and they fought for dominance. And to Harry’s utter shock he lost and Percival began to rut against him, howling and snarling and making so much noise. Harry loved every second of it. He let Percival have everything, and after they both had come they licked each other all over. Curled around each other.

Percival was already awake when Harry blinked his eyes open. “Okay?” Percival asked.

Harry nodded.

“My wolf is so loud, I don’t like -”

“It is fine,” Harry promised. Because it was nothing compared to what Harry was about to do. “I love you,” Harry said and kissed Percival. The smile that Percival gave him, almost destroyed Harry, but he had to do the right thing. “In less than two years, my betrothal contract comes due, and if I spend even one more night with you, I’ll never be able to let you go, and I will not make you my piece on the side, or make whoever it is I’m supposed to marry ever feel like James and his mate feel. If I stay, I don’t know if I can -” Harry cut himself off. “Please don’t leave the band.”

Percival didn’t say anything, just got up and walked away. Harry screamed at the sun until Merlin came and wrapped his arms around him.

*

“She’s fine,” Harry told them all. He was a bit late to practice having finally met the woman he was going to marry in three months. “Ready to do her duty to her pack, just as I am. Not unattractive. It’s all fine.” He looked at Percival who just stood there, hips moving to time, as they always did the second a base was in his hand. The man had grown even more gorgeous over the last few years. Harry had lost a stone, and had shadows under his eyes. He had also been drinking a bit more, not enough to worry anyone, though Merlin occasionally would take the bottle away from him. “Reviews are in?”

“Second album has five stars across the board,” James crowed. “We are booked in real venues, and a few of the good old bars. Seems we are making it, Harry right before the deadline. So maybe you’ll be in the shit marriage group with me, but at least you’ll be able to keep the band.”

His father had made it clear that no he wouldn’t. Family duty, honour mattered most of all. He was sure that Merlin could read his face, but Harry smiled. “Excellent. Summer tours are always the best.” He picked up his guitar and began to play. If he could he would play until his fingers bled. He tried to look as little as possible at Percival. All he wanted was to lick the man’s throat.

They practiced and Harry lost himself in the music, knowing how short a time he had left.

It was the night before the rehearsal dinner and they played a small club and were on fire. Harry supposed there were far worse shows to end his career on. He didn’t mention that to anyone. They packed up, and he couldn’t help himself. He brushed his hand against Percival’s. “If I could have, I would have spent the rest of my life running with you, playing with you.” He walked away, not like Percival would have responded anyways.

The rehearsal dinner was going well. He and his betrothed said 10 words to each other. And not in the quiet of Percival, who hated how loud his wolf was, so was silent the rest of the time. Quiet because they had fuck all to say to each other. Merlin was seated next to him, mainly because he had flat out pushed Harry’s father out of the way. He squeezed Harry’s thigh under the table, giving his support as he had since they were sixteen.

They were just about to start the main course when there was a commotion. Harry looked over and stood up. “Percival?” 

Percival was pushing his way past the staff, a file folder in his hands. He barely looked at Harry and instead went to Harry’s father. He slammed down a piece of paper on the table.

“I’m sorry?” the older man said. He picked it up. “Why have you given me a…notorized copy of your birth certificate?”

“Because it says Percival Oliver Morton,” Percival said.

Harry had never heard Percival’s full name before. Sounded a bit odd.

Wait…he said Morton.

“Merlin?” Harry whispered. “I am hallucinating.”

“No, ye aren’t,” Merlin replied and hurried over to Harry’s father. He looked at the thing. “It does say Morton. I’ve read the contract carefully. No name beyond they had to be a Morton was specified.”

“Balderdash,” the betrothed’s father said. “That whelp may have made his last name Morton, but that doesn’t mean he is a Morton.”

“Two years work,” Percival snapped, and opened the file folder. He handed everything to Merlin, not trusting the other men.

“What is going on?” the woman to his right ask Harry.

“The love of my life is changing the shape of the world,” Harry said. “My mate,” he breathed out, hoping that saying the words might make them true. 

“We are to be mated.”

“Have you even listened to one of my albums?”

“You are joining your father’s business, why would I?”

Merlin was reading quickly. “He is a Morton.” A few people stood and decried it. Merlin snarled, and they all backed down a bit. Harry smiled. Merlin’s wolf was stronger than any at the table, he just never bothered to use that power. “He has carefully done the genealogy. He is descended from a FitzMorton line, the Fitz dropped about 120 years ago.”

“A bastard line is meaningless.”

“Bastard line that was fully acknowledge by the starter of it. Lord Oliver Benjamin Morton. And it seems the Fitz line has carried the Oliver name in every generation. All the paperwork is here, and he fulfills the wording of the initial betrothal contract.” Merlin grinned. “You never specified a specific name, or that you had to be the one to decide which Morton Harry wed. Just that he had to wed a Morton. And here is one.”

Percival looked at Harry. “Mine.”

Harry got up and went around the table. “Always, yes. Your mate, until the end of time.”

“Harry if you do this travesty, you will be cut off. You will ruin the family,” his father said. 

“He is a Morton.” Harry smiled at Percival. “The moon brought you to me.” It was a song he had written for the new album, the first single off it. He had written it for Percival.

Percival just smiled at him, as everyone was yelling around them. Percival brought him in for a kiss.

“Right, let’s get you two out of here, before this gets worse,” Merlin pushed them away from the table. “Hey, Mr. Hart?”

“What is it, you Scottish mongrel?” 

Harry blinked at his father being so rude.

“You should really come to our next show, since looks like Harry won’t have to give up the band after all!” Merlin was downright cheerful. “Also you can’t threaten to kick us out of the building. My shell company bought it from your shell company two years ago. Bye!”

“I love you,” Harry told Merlin.

“Love you too, we are never seeing any of those people again.”

Harry was sad. He loved his parents, but Merlin was right, they’d strike him from the family records. Percival squeezed his hand.

It was worth it.

They did an impromptu show at a very gross bar the next night, on the night Harry would have been married. Beer bottles were thrown at them, and he didn’t care. He was playing, and Percival was next to him.

After the show they drove to their studio, and climbed to the roof, stared up at the sky.

Percival put a gift on his chest just like he had five years ago. It was the same picks it had been then. 

Harry pulled Percival down on top of him. “I am yours until the day I die,” he promised the younger man.

“Aaawhooo,” Percival said and kissed him. A perfect kiss.

Harry had everything he had ever dreamed of. His best friend, a band that was growing successful, and a mate he loved. When the kiss broke he howled loudly, an absurd silly noise that sounded nothing at all like his wolf, and Percival did that silent laugh of his against Harry’s throat.

Turning 30 was his best birthday ever.


End file.
